[Instead, his response is completely nonverbal. He tilts his head to the side, still softly working along Mukuro-sama’s throat but able to peer over the rim of his glasses to make direct eye contact with Ken. He keeps it, even as he quietly nips along Mukuro-sama’s jaw.]
[If it looks like a blatant challenge, that’s because it is.]
[After all- he’s the one who found this job in the first place with costumes Mukuro-sama clearly likes, the one who was forced into taking care of Ken and the others since no one else was viable, and the one who has to deal with all this mess. Doesn’t he deserve something for that?]
[...Also Ken started it.]
[Mukuro can likely feel the way his lips turn down as he burrows his face against his neck, even as he sighs against his skin at Mukuro’s touch.]
...Not to Ken when he's this kind of mess…
[Besides, you know, the usual kind of mess that is Ken’s very existence.]
But…. always for you, Mukuro-sama.
[His free hand slips over Mukuro’s chest, thin fingers spreading wide over his shirt. It’s as much a quiet plea for attention as the way his other hand moving in his hair is when he scrapes his nails against Mukuro’s scalp.]
no subject
[Things he’s not going to do: that]
[Instead, his response is completely nonverbal. He tilts his head to the side, still softly working along Mukuro-sama’s throat but able to peer over the rim of his glasses to make direct eye contact with Ken. He keeps it, even as he quietly nips along Mukuro-sama’s jaw.]
[If it looks like a blatant challenge, that’s because it is.]
[After all- he’s the one who found this job in the first place with costumes Mukuro-sama clearly likes, the one who was forced into taking care of Ken and the others since no one else was viable, and the one who has to deal with all this mess. Doesn’t he deserve something for that?]
[...Also Ken started it.]
[Mukuro can likely feel the way his lips turn down as he burrows his face against his neck, even as he sighs against his skin at Mukuro’s touch.]
...Not to Ken when he's this kind of mess…
[Besides, you know, the usual kind of mess that is Ken’s very existence.]
But…. always for you, Mukuro-sama.
[His free hand slips over Mukuro’s chest, thin fingers spreading wide over his shirt. It’s as much a quiet plea for attention as the way his other hand moving in his hair is when he scrapes his nails against Mukuro’s scalp.]